


What Separates Me From You

by CherryMountain



Series: New Beginnings [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bar, Bruce's 3rd person POV, Half-Elf, Hunters, Just another random story, M/M, Mercenaries, On the Run, Pool Table, Science Bros, Self-Doubt, Shifter, Sorcerer, Tony's 3rd person POV, Werewolf, awesome jewelry, demigod - Freeform, demon, enchanted weapons, ghost - Freeform, multi-chapter fic, self-hate, supernatural creature au, vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryMountain/pseuds/CherryMountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you’re a supernatural creature and officially neutral, you have to watch your back. Bruce and Tony have been doing that for some time now, along with a few friends. They also have some time to kill. That is, until they’re forced to leave the neutral bar when it’s destroyed, and once again go on the run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic, which is a continuation of the intro, we’re delving deeper into the supernatural world. Seelie is good, Unseelie is bad, but we’ll only use those terms officially, the rest of the time they’ll either be the douchebags or do-gooders and whatnot, etc. etc.
> 
> I seriously have no idea what I intended to write, I kinda just started typing and stuff got written down. It somehow turned into a plot.

Tony was not going to admit that he felt useless, powerless, like nothing but dirt. Because he was a demon; it was not in his nature to accept weakness.

He hadn’t made any kind of deal in weeks, not even feeding off scents of other power, because he had nothing to do with the power if he had it. Of course, he could have started a fight if he wanted, supernatural against supernatural, power and all, but for what? He’d get no reward out of it, though he was sure it’d ease his nerves.

Bruce, the werewolf next door, seemed to recognize this in Tony. The two were in the lounge outside the countless rooms in the basement of the bar- and Tony had attempted to count them, heading down the hall until the lounge was a dot on the horizon, but he’d given up at 203- Tony on a couch, while Bruce made some drink at the counter behind him.

Tony let out another sigh, one he hadn’t really noticed until Bruce was suddenly sitting next to him, watching him. “What’s on your mind?”

Tony, startled, straightened on his cushion, turning to watch as Bruce shifted on the couch, holding his cup to his chest with both hands. Normally, he would have lied, played it off, but this was Bruce, someone he’d made a connection with immediately. There was no reason to. He turned back forward, staring at a crack in the wall. “I’m…” his brows scrunched, the word not really what he was looking for, but it’d do. “Bored.”

There was a small chuckle from Bruce, and Tony sent him a glare. Laughing at his torture? “You need a hobby.”

Tony frowned. “I _had_ a hobby, but it’s frowned upon in these parts of the woods.”

Bruce gave him a pointed stare, and Tony shut up. “I _meant_ ,” Bruce said, taking a sip of his drink. “Bowling, or bird watching.”

Tony rose his eyebrows, a laugh spilling from his lips. “Bowling? Bird watching?” Then he all out laughed, turning away from the werewolf. “Next you’ll be telling me to make deals for good, save lives, spread _love_.”

After a moment of silence, Tony turned to see what Bruce was doing. He was staring thoughtfully at Tony, as if humoring what the demon had just said. “No,” Tony stated harshly, standing, as if the idea was insane. Because it was. “Not happening. I’d rather sit through my childhood again. And no, I’m not telling you about my childhood.” He walked toward the stairs and headed up them, Bruce clambering off the couch to follow him.

“We’ll get to that,” he heard Bruce say quietly, as Tony hit the landing and walked through the doorway.

He entered the bar and immediately made it to two tables pushed together, ignoring the other patrons of the bar. It was daylight, so there wasn’t much activity, but there was the chatter from the table and another group in the corner.

Before the demon could see what his group of friends were doing, he caught a glimpse of something heading right toward him, and then there was an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. Tony glared as he stopped, looking to find Natasha holding the bow, now lowering it with a grin. “You got in the way of the dartboard,” was all she had to say, and Clint snickered at her side.

Tony ripped the arrow from his shoulder, just as Bruce stopped beside him. The werewolf looked concerned down at the blood now littering the demons shirt, but Tony only slumped his shoulders. “Every time I get a clean shirt, someone decides to attack me.” He stomped forward, shoving the bloody arrow at the half-elf, then plopping down next to the shifter, who was hiding a smile.

Tony would have mumbled something about vampires not needing weapons, but Bruce settled down next to him, and his train of thought was lost as the werewolf addressed the group. “Tony needs a hobby.”

The demon frowned at Bruce, because seriously, they probably had shittier ideas than the werewolf. Natasha and Clint were sitting on either side of the demigod, who was his usual chipper-self. Tony folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. “There’s nothing to do here, and we can’t leave for that long because of jackass over there.” He gestured vaguely to the bar, where Strange was busy cleaning his shelves.

Steve shrugged, his huge muscles shifting with the movement. “You could get a job.”

Tony immediately gaped at him. “Do something so human? _Work-_ ”

Steve lifted his hands in surrender. “Fine, you can live in this bar the rest of your life.”

Tony turned from him, glaring at the rest of them, brows raised, challenging them to say something stupider.

It was Clint’s turn to shrug, as he pulled out a cloth to wipe down his bow. “Find a better neutral place.”

Tony snorted. “The only other place a _demon_ would be accepted is in the Arctic Circle.”

Natasha shrugged, pulling a glass toward her. “Or the Antarctic Circle.” More snickers rang out, and Tony simply shrugged.

Strange suddenly appeared, setting down a pitcher of beer and glasses, which Thor immediately dove into. “I suggest you leave anyhow,” the sorcerer said, eyes darting around the entire table. All six stared up at him silently, and even Thor paused in lifting his glass to his lips. Strange continued to look across them. “The mercenaries will be back sooner or later. The Seelie City is probably safest.”

Steve goodie-two-shoes was the one that immediately shook his head. “We’re here to stay _out_ of all that good/bad war stuff.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

The entire team looked to Steve at the accusation from Strange, who looked down at the table with a cringe.

Strange stepped away, pointing to them. “Think about it.” And then he headed back to his counter, ignoring them as if he hadn’t just told them to get out.

Thor chugged his glass and slammed it down onto the table. “What does the sorcerer speak of, friend?”

The shifter let out a breath, then looked up to Natasha across from him, giving side-looks. “I may have been Seelie before… before I was frozen.”

Not surprising, really. Thor, Clint, and Tony weren’t even from this plane, so they couldn’t really have picked a side. Well, when demons came to the plane, yeah, but that wasn’t _Tony’s_ fault. Natasha seemed to have a shady past, so probably Unseelie, and Bruce was most likely new to the supernatural world, being bitten and changed into a werewolf, not born. And Steve just seemed so good, he would never side with the Unseelie.

“That is noble of you,” Thor told him, refilling his glass.

“No- I mean, yeah, sure, but I want to stay out of it,” Steve said, grabbing his own glass. “It’s been centuries and both sides are still fighting. It needs to end.”

Thor frowned, but said nothing else.

“You’re right.”

Tony found himself startled along with the rest of the table at the new voice that literally appeared out of nowhere. A man stood at the end of the table, arms folded across his chest, a glare set across his eye. He had an eyepatch covering the other, a long black trench coat, and guns in his coat. But he was also transparent and an extremely pale glowing blue; a ghost. “The world needs heroes, people that think like you to stop all of this.”

“Fury,” Natasha said, giving him a small nod. “Eavesdropping again?”

The ghost turned his one-eyed glare to her. “This is my bar, I can do what I want.”

Tony glanced over his shoulder at Strange. “But I thought-”

“Well you thought wrong, Demon,” the ghost told him, cutting him off and sending his glare at Tony.

“I set up this bar thinking that, if there were neutral parties, both the Light and the Dark would see how much easier it is to get along,” he said, eyes casting across the six of them. “I was wrong.”

“So, what, exactly, are you trying to tell us?” Tony asked, stealing Steve’s drink before he could get any of it. Steve glared at him, but after a moment shook his head with a sigh and poured another glass.

“That there shouldn’t be two sides.”

Clint shook his head. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen, Fury.”

The ghost glared at the half-elf, but he, along with the rest of them, knew it was true.  “There will always be the fighting, killing, because neither side will step down.”

“It’s not only about stopping the war,” Bruce said quietly, drawing all eyes, and Tony’s brows furrowed at the sudden sadness from him. He kept his eyes down at his cup from downstairs as he spoke. “To both sides, it’s not about killing each other. The Seelie are just trying to protect the humans from the Unseelie, from their evil. Humans are innocent, oblivious; they don’t deserve to be in the middle of this.”

Tony frowned, realizing Bruce had been one of those humans, turned into a shapeshifter. The demon didn’t know if Bruce was turned to bring more to one of the sides, or to just grow the pack, but he had been caught up in the supernatural world with no choice of going back. So now, he was part of this, whether he wanted to be or not. And it sounded like he was on the side that protected humans.

“If I could, I’d give my life to prevent anymore humans from suffering.”

Tony watched as the werewolf blinked, and there were tears in his eyes. Tony had the urge to comfort him, but how? He’d seen plenty do it before; a pat on the shoulder, grabbing his hand, giving him a hug. Any would work, he was sure, but could Tony do it? Be an anchor, the support, for someone else? And if he did- No, that wasn’t Tony. Tony caused the pain, not healed it. Or at least he had when he was still a servant of hell. Now, he was just a lost demon, an outcast of his kind. Did that change who he was? He didn’t think so.

So he turned away, back to the ghost who was talking again. “That’s what this world needs: people willing to give their lives for the safety of others.” He sent his even stare across all six of them, and then he was gone, fading until he disappeared, with no trace that he’d been there but in their memories.

Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What just happened?”

Natasha waved her hand at them. “He can only stay here a few minutes before he disappears again, he’ll be back in a week or so.”

“Why a week?”

“He’s what keeps this building standing, along with Strange’s magic, so most of his energy is dedicated to that. He rarely hears anything of interest to pop in, but I guess he thought this was important enough.”

All six exchanged glances, and Tony let out a groan. Now they were all seriously considering what the ghost had said, he saw it on their faces, and he was probably going to be dragged along with them.

* * *

“I was thinking about what Fury and Bruce said,” Steve said suddenly, straightening from the pool table.

Tony looked over the back of the couch. “Where _is_ Bruce, anyway? He was here a few minutes ago.”

“He went out to get some more tea,” Natasha said, her turn at the game. She walked around the table and lined up her stick, bending at the waist for better leverage. “What were you saying, Steve?”

Steve backed to the counter, where Clint was sitting, feet pulled up and tucked under him, staring into a jar of peanut butter. “I’ve never really thought of the human’s perspective.”

“Which is selfish, by the way,” Clint commented without turning from the jar.

Steve gave him an annoyed look. “I mean, I use to be just like them, before my powers. But I got my powers, and my entire world changed. The human world suddenly seemed so ignorant; they go about their daily lives without knowing the horrors of the supernatural, that they could die any day.”

Natasha rose as the balls on the table clattered around, and Tony turned back forward, wondering what the captain was going on about. “Doesn’t sound so optimistic,” the demon mumbled.

“It doesn’t taste like peanuts. Or butter. Why is it called peanut butter?”

“They don’t have peanut butter in elf world?” Tony asked from his spot on the couch, and immediately felt the glares at the back of his head. He turned to see Steve glaring at him, while Natasha glared at Clint. Both shut up.

“They either need to know, learn to defend themselves, or someone needs to do it for them.”

Tony rolled his eyes; it wasn’t going to change anything. And why was he even listening to all this? He stood from the couch and headed upstairs to get away from them. He stopped at the door and gave Strange an impatient look while he folded his arms across his chest. The bartender looked up from his counter, squinted his eyes at the demon, but he nodded, giving Tony the okay to head out.

They were right though, Tony supposed as he headed out into the dark woods, following the path to the human town. Not about the humans, but having to leave. The mercenaries _would_ eventually come back, and then, Tony’d be taken prisoner and tortured forever. He had to find a new place to hide, a place which could also ward him, like Strange’s necklace. A place to stay for good, if that was even possible.

If one exited the bar and headed straight down the path, they’d eventually hit the hardware store on the edge of the small town. But Tony never made it that far, because he spotted Bruce about halfway there, just standing in the dark, head tilted up to the sky.

The demon didn’t speak as he approached Bruce, who sighed and lowered his head as Tony got closer to him. “I’m leaving.”

Tony froze, still a few yards from the werewolf. “Leaving where?”

He sighed again, then turned to Tony, face shadowed by the moonlight, but Tony saw his glowing brown eyes, filled with self-hate. “A place where I can be stopped from hurting anymore innocent people.”

Tony let out a forced laugh, because he didn’t want to believe it. “Don’t tell me you’re going to that city.”

Bruce glanced to the ground between them. “I am,” he said, turning back up to Tony, now determined. “I’m going to do what I can to help; I’ve waited long enough.”

The demon opened his mouth to speak, but before he could he felt something nearby. His brows furrowed as he sensed the magic brush against him, at the same time Bruce tilted his face up, scenting the air.

“Smells like you,” Bruce said as the magic disappeared once again, probably another creature passing by, and Tony turned his attention back to the werewolf.

“And what do I smell like?” Tony asked, a small smile touching his lips.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Soot, not like a pyromancer or a shaman who just smell like fire.”

“Does soot smell better than fire?” Tony asked with a grin, bringing out the charm, but he was equally curious.

Bruce glared at him, seeing through Tony leading away from the original conversation. “I’m going,” he said, stepping around Tony and heading back to the bar.

Tony followed him. “Do you even know how to get there?”

Bruce glanced at him over his shoulder. “No.”

Tony shrugged. “So you can’t go. Looks like you’re stuck here with me.”

“I’ll just ask Strange.”

Damn it.

“Why don’t you want me to go?” Bruce asked curiously, stopping, but he didn’t turn to face the demon.

Tony made his way around the man. “It’s not like turning good is going to ch-” Bruce held up his hand to cut Tony off, and that was when the demon realized the werewolf had his attention otherwise occupied. He was staring off into the woods up the path, brows furrowed, nostrils twitching.

Tony looked in the same direction, but he didn’t smell anything, not really. Without his power he couldn’t do anything a human couldn’t. Which sucked.

“Do you smell that?”

Tony shook his head at his friend’s confused expression, watching his face.

Bruce shook his head slightly, still focused on that point in the distance. “Smells like… fire.”

Before Tony could chuckle, Bruce’s eyes widened, and with his werewolf speed, he stepped into a run toward the bar.

Tony felt his own eyes widen, because he had to go with Bruce, but really, the man was way faster, and Tony wouldn’t catch up in time to be there with him if there _was_ a fire. He took off anyway, pushing his legs as much as he could, but Bruce was already a dot in the dark around the slight curve up to the bar.

It was only a short run, but Tony felt his throat dry up as he came around the corner and finally saw the blazing red of a fire. An actual fire, not a pyromancer or a phoenix or a candle. The bar was on fire, or at least the one wall of it was.

Tony choked on air as he stopped to stare at the fire, spotting Bruce dart into the burning building, but no one was running out. He was about to follow when he saw movement by the fire. A figure, staring up at the flames.

Tony went to take a deep breath, but then stopped, because he didn’t need air. Some subconscious need, he supposed. He stepped forward, his terrible mundane limbs weak from the run, but seconds later he was coming up to the building and approaching the figure.

The figure, startled, looked from the wall to stare at the demon. Before Tony could see who it was- not that he’d know anyway- or he could do anything about it- his power was at half mass from the fight a few weeks ago, he’d been storing it for emergencies and wasn’t about to use it if he didn’t know this was the person that had set the fire or what they were going to do- the figure darted off, long hair flowing behind them as they ran into the forest.

He heard the shouts from the bar, and turned to go help, because some of them wouldn’t survive the fire and he wasn’t about to see any of them come out dead. Unfortunately, too much shit happened to Tony, and before he could, he felt something hit him in the back.

He dropped to his knees, because whatever it was really fucking hurt. That meant it had to be enchanted or blessed, but why Tony immediately thought that was beyond him, because he should be worried that it was causing him _pain_ , not why or how it did it. But then he felt the energy from it, still in him- it had to be a weapon of some kind, piercing his body and sticking- and blinked. Definitely enchanted.

His vision went blurry as he felt his own power, the power he’d been saving, begin to drain from him. It was pulled toward his chest, some force drawing it all together, and then slowly seeped out of him into… whatever it was that was in him. His power was sapped in seconds, and he barely had time to throw his hands out before he fell forward, the power being pulled from him causing his entire body to go limp, stopping him from doing much else.

He imagined this was what it felt like for humans when they were bleeding out. He felt numb, everything that kept him going being taken from him, agonizingly slow but in reality so much faster. He caught glimpses of figures across the fire, people leaving the bar, but everything was going dark and blurry and slow and weak.

And then, suddenly, it stopped, and it was like a weight being lifted off of him. He was being lifted off the ground, his feet put under him, and whatever energy he had left- he’d sworn most of it had been drained, but thankfully he still had a small spark- he used to blink his eyes open and focus on what was happening. He imagined _this_ is what it felt like being drugged for humans.

The first thing he saw was Natasha, with her bright red hair and lips, standing in front of him. Behind her Steve was ushering people out of the burning building, and Bruce was helping, worry strewn across his face.

Tony looked up, attempted to straighten, and Thor still held him, so it was easier. “What the hell happened?” he asked, because getting hit by an enchanted weapon that drained him was not normal. And he felt exhausted, everything he had left being used to blink his eyes open.

Natasha lifted something, a thin dark pointed object, with a ball of glowing light near the pointy end. Tony closed his eyes to push away his blurry vision. “Why is it always me?”

“Looks like this glowing blue is some of your power,” the vampire said, her voice sounding far away but impressed. “Must sap on contact.” Tony would have glared at her if he had the energy, but he could barely keep his eyes open, he felt so drained, so empty. Dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yay, I finally got this up! Editing future chapters, but I'm not sure when I'll update. Stay tuned


	2. Wake

Tony was pretty much out of it as Thor dragged him around. He heard voices, and saw figures moving past him, but he couldn’t focus on them for too long, put faces to voices, or recognize the lights and buildings around him.

It was a while later, after moving a great distance and all the noise died down, when Tony felt a little better. A little.

He felt himself being lifted, and then he was lying down, looking up at a ceiling not far from him. There was shifting, a small squeak, quiet voices, and then a slam. A moment later, a small humming started up underneath Tony, and that was when he realized he was in a vehicle.

Bruce’s face appeared above him. “Tony?” He asked, but Tony couldn’t focus on his face, although he heard the concern.

The demon tried to move, to maybe sit up and ask what the fuck was happening, why he was in a vehicle, but all he managed was to shift his head and let out a small groan. He tried to blink when Bruce moved, to see if the werewolf was alright- because he’d ran into a burning building- but he was too weak, he couldn’t focus.

“…this blood.”

Those words.

Tony blinked, his vision shaky, but there was something touching his hand, and he pulled on it, not with his body, but his mind.

Yes, he had heard right. He felt the blood trickle down his hand, which was pressing against another shaky hand, and he tried to focus on pulling it into himself and using it to rebuild, but his focus was still shit.

“Tony, you have to work with me.”

He tried to nod, to tell him it was okay, but failed. Instead, he turned all his focus on the blood, the blood that would heal him.

He closed his eyes and directed all his focus to bring the blood forth, to devour it, and turn it into energy, energy he could send back to collect more blood. With each ounce he converted into energy, he took more blood, and the energy began doubly, and he eventually felt relaxed. He felt the blurriness fade away into clarity, and he was suddenly back in the real world. The real world where Bruce was sitting beside him, looking down at the demon with worry, fighting back pain. Pain Tony was causing him.

The demon let go, stopping himself from taking any more, shoved the hand away and rushed to sit up. Bruce gripped his shoulder as he took a steady breath, and Tony looked away. “Thanks,” he mumbled, flexing his hand and taking whatever blood that was left and attempting to store it, but there wasn’t much.

“Tony, are you okay?” The werewolf asked, as if he hadn’t been in any pain himself.

Tony closed his eyes and shook his head. “Fine,” he told him, but he knew it wasn’t true. Bruce had done it again, risked dying to save Tony. The demon could have sapped everything if he hadn’t paid attention, because he was so out of it. But seeing Bruce fighting against his own draining…

Tony felt guilty. He’d rarely felt it in his time, because guilt wasn’t something a demon experienced, but he knew what it was, especially after that entire city he’d helped destroy. And he hated that it wracked its thoughts, made him want to change everything. But he’d already changed so much, he feared if he did anymore, he’d lose himself.

Tony shook his head again, and finally looked up, trying to forget what had just happened.

They were in a minivan, where the back seats should have been, but it was just hard floor. Steve and Thor were sitting in the nearest seats, with Clint in the passenger and Natasha in driver. Streetlights passed by the windows, and the inside of the vehicle was quiet other than them breathing.

“Where are we going?” Tony asked. He had the same amount of energy as earlier, before the whole sapping thing- as strong as a human. He pulled himself over to the side of the car so he could lean against it. He felt Bruce’s gaze on him, but the werewolf kept his space and went to the opposite side of the van.

It was Steve that spoke, quiet and passive. “Well, after we put the fire out at the bar, there was a message written in the ashes. Said ‘we’ll burn more than the bar if you don’t accept your fate.’”

“Strange knew they were after us, so he kicked us out,” Bruce added, fidgeting with his hands, and Tony looked to him. “He gave everyone necklaces, said to keep them,” he said, looking up, nodding toward Tony’s chest. “Had to replace yours, because the necklace was sapped, too.”

Tony looked down to find a new necklace resting on his chest. It was a silver chain, a pale blue gem held onto the charm. “Those mercenaries must be pissed,” he said with a hum, and Bruce nodded, looking down at his hands. “But it doesn’t answer my question.”

“A place we know that will give us safe passage,” Natasha said from the driver’s seat, but Tony was still watching Bruce, who looked awkwardly uncomfortable, fingers moving swiftly over each other.

“And where would that be?” The demon asked, but the way Bruce was avoiding his gaze told him what he didn’t want to know. He needed to hear it, though, so he could argue.

Bruce rubbed at his face, seeming to struggle, but he finally gave him and looked up to meet Tony’s glare. “I suggested the city.”

Tony watched as Bruce prepared himself, eyes shifting across Tony’s. Then Tony glared deeper. “No.”

Bruce lowered his shoulders, annoyance across his features as he tilted his head. “Why are you so against going? We’ll be safe.”

Tony shook his head, clenching his jaw. “It’s a waste of time, they’ll turn us down.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “You’ve changed, Tony. Whatever you did to that town changed your way of thinking, and I know you’re not a killer anymore. So what’s really your problem?”

“I’m a _demon_ ,” Tony exclaimed loudly, causing Bruce to freeze. “Even if I can prove that I’ve changed, that I won’t hurt anyone even if I could, they’ll still look down at me. They’ll watch me with suspicion, waiting for me to snap and kill someone. They’ll never see me as an equal, because they won’t just forget my past. I’m a _killer_ , and I always will be.”

“You’re wrong.” Bruce had his own glare across his face, a rare expression for him. “You can choose _not_ to kill, not to be like the rest of the demons.”

Tony shook his head and grew silent.

“I do my best, but if I had a choice, I would.”

He looked up at Bruce’s whisper, guilt filling him once again. Because he was right. Tony did have a choice. He’d been through plenty of shit, and he didn’t hate doing something right for once, fighting with this strange group of creatures. But Bruce sincerely hated it, hated himself. Not everyone was given a second chance, but somehow, Tony had one. He just didn’t know if he truly earned it.

* * *

 

Tony tried his best to ignore Bruce, because the werewolf didn’t seem to understand that Tony could _kill_ him, and even worse, was struggling to fight it. Taking more of his blood, of anyone’s blood, would restore Tony’s energy and make him feel alive again. He’d ignore the consequences of his actions if he was presented with another dose of free energy, he knew. He’d spent too long hanging by a thread, he wouldn’t hesitate at the relief it would bring.

So he distracted himself with Clint, watching the half-elf twirl the enchanted arrow in his hand. The pale blue light stored in the arrow lefts trails of the light in the air, creating swirls and swirls of bouncing lines. It was distracting, watching the energy flashing through the air. Energy that had been taken from _him_. Tony found it odd that it was bright blue. When he thought deeper on it, it made more sense that it would be a blood red, or black or gray, like dark smoke or soot. He’d never seen sapped energy before, maybe the arrow converted it to energy it needed.

And then finally, after hours of watching the blue light and ignoring the idle chitchats and scenery changes, Natasha stopped the van, and the six immediately piled out.

Tony stared up at the forest, wondering where they hell they were. After a moment he realized what they were here for was on the other side of the van. He stepped around Steve and looked on with the five of them at a dark, misty road, leading into seemingly nowhere.

“Why, exactly, did we stop?” Steve asked, rubbing at the back of his neck in confusion.

Clint was still twirling the arrow, seemingly with no concentration on his part. Tony glared at it. “This is it,” the blond said, staring at the road with no interest or disinterest.

“Is the city enchanted or protected?” Bruce asked, looking around for anything else, but all there was was a road sign stating that this was Berkwood.

“I decided this was better than the city,” Natasha said quietly, and even Tony looked to her with the rest but Clint did. She turned to Bruce, ignoring the other three. “You’ve never been in a supernatural community, I thought this would be better before we go trudging into the city demanding justice for all who were wronged.”

Tony looked around, too, still stuck on the where-the-hell-were-they part of the situation. “Annnnd, there’s a portal around here that’s going to bring us to this town, or are we just standing here looking pretty?”

“You are not doing well in that area, my friend,” Thor told him, looking up and down at Tony’s dirty and bloody shirt.

“Thanks, buddy. You too.”

Natasha moved, sending them all back into the van, eventually answering the question.

* * *

 

“It just looks like a town.”

It was Steve, glancing up at the buildings as they hopped out of the van once again in front of the town hall. Most of the lights were out, only the diner and a tiny light in the window of the hall showed any signs of life.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get a warm welcome tomorrow,” Natasha told them, slight sarcasm seeping through as she disappeared into the hall and approached the lone light. The males stayed outside, standing awkwardly on the sidewalk, glancing up at the few dark store fronts.

Tony turned his gaze to Clint, who was still twirling the arrow. “Do you have to do that?”

Clint turned to him, brow raising in innocence. “No,” he simply said, but he didn’t stop the twirling.

Tony snatched it out of his hand, causing the blonde to frown. “You’re an elf, you know how to wield magic. Can’t you put this back in me,” he asked, eyes running across the thin oval of glass right behind the point of the ammunition.

Clint reached out and snatched it back, then folded his arms across his chest. “Half-elf. “ He corrected. “And I could, but I’d have to shoot you with it. And it might backfire and take more from you instead of give. But I’d love to give it a try.”

Before he could reply Natasha reappeared. “Alright, we have a place to stay. Get some rest, you’re going to need it tomorrow morning.”

* * *

 

Tony woke up to blinding light and a distant shout. He groaned and flipped over, willing unconsciousness to return. Demons didn’t usually sleep, but after he became an outcast to his people, it was the best supplement for deals. And now he couldn’t even do that because there was shouting outside.

He bolted upright when he heard a very low, animalistic roar. He was in his room of the loft Natasha had brought them to. It was barren, with only thin sheets and ratty pillows, but the vampire had promised better supplies in the morning. Which was now.

He stood and stepped to the window, glad he hadn’t taken his shoes off last night, disappointed that he was still in his dirty shirt from yesterday. But the sight on the street below wiped that clear away; Bruce and Steve were half-surrounded by a dozen or so other people.

Tony ran from the room, getting lost trying to find the stairs, but he eventually made it outside to where the shouts were closer and louder. Bruce looked startled by the dozen people all speaking at the same time, but Steve looked angered, like he’d already tried talking to them and failed.

Tony wanted to help, and the only way Tony knew how to clear an area was fear. The only way he knew to do that was with his power. He only had a little, but he’d use it to protect his friends. He stepped forward, pressing himself toward his friends, and then he brought forth his power, centering it at the pavement beneath his feet, feeling the fire grow within him.

Black mist rose from the ground, spreading out toward the first set of feet. Most of the shouting stopped, instead turning to hushes, and people took a few steps back. But none fled, like Tony had expected.

He looked around, confused, which was when he noticed that they had taken up a defensive position. One lit up in gold, another brought blue light to his hands, another had blue fur across his body- must be where the roar had come from. How could Tony have forgotten that they were in a supernatural town? How does information like that slip out after one night’s sleep?

Then there was a hand grabbing his arm, drawing him away and back to the present, and the fire in him died away as he turned to Bruce. The werewolf looked extremely worried, but also persistent in stopping Tony, which the demon immediately realized was stopping him from using too much of his energy.

He immediately felt the strain of what he’d done, glad that Bruce had a hand on him to keep him from stumbling. He needed to sit down, or maybe get some more sleep. Being this weak was really messing with him. He hated it.

“-clear the area, the street is neutral, remember?”

Tony blinked, searching for the new voice. At their words the crowd warily dispersed, giving hard glances over their shoulders, but in under a minute it was just the three of them and the new comer.

“Thank you,” Steve said, and the new voice immediately responded, tone expressionless. “You’re new here, and they took advantage of that. But the street is neutral, no one can pick a fight out here.”

It was a woman, with long green hair and wearing a pair of green sunglasses. Tony didn’t have enough juice to tell what she was, though the odd colored sunglasses were a bit freaky, and made him wonder if her eyes gave away what species she was. She shrugged, turning her gaze to Bruce. “They’re just surprised a werewolf is out walking around in human form.”

Bruce shook his head, confused. “I heard what they were saying, but I don’t understand what it all means.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and her gaze flickered over all three of them. “You haven’t heard then.”

When both Bruce and Steve shook their head, the woman nodded, her gaze returning to Bruce. “Werewolves went rabid a month or so ago. Supposedly one bit another, and then it created a chain reaction. They’re all rabid and killing people, and no one can get through to them. That is until you came along.”


End file.
